“No, I didn’t plan on fucking him.” I affected a yawn as though I were already tired of the conversation. I made eyes at the preppy guy stood on the other side of Cole. I licked my lips slowly and almost laughed at his eager expression.
Cole looked over his shoulder at preppy and snarled. “Get the hell out of here. She’s off limits, dude!” Poor preppy scurried off so fast it was as though his butt were on fire.
I stood up straight and took a menacing step toward the object of my unbridled lust. “Holy double standards, Cole! Where’s the little blonde?” I asked looking pointedly around the teeming group of people.
Cole scrunched up his face in confusion. “Who?”
I laughed humorlessly. “The bitch that was showing you her boob job when I came in,” I spat out.
Cole frowned, as though trying to figure out what I was talking about. And then he started laughing. The urge to kick him between the legs was overwhelming.
Then the asshole pinched the tip of my nose and rustled my hair like a damn dog. “Is Vivvie jealous?” he cooed and this time I lost it.
I picked up the closest beer bottle and dumped the contents on his shoes.
Cole leapt backwards, howling in outrage. “What the fuck, Vivian?” he screamed. The noise in the bar became noticeably quieter.
I pressed myself up against Cole, my face an inch from his. My heart was thumping wildly, my blood was buzzing with fury.
“I am sick of your bullshit, Cole. You better walk the line tonight or you’ll be sorry. Do I make myself clear? I didn’t come all this way to be humiliated by you. If you want me here, then act like it,” I hissed.
Cole’s eyes snapped and sizzled, his chest heaving up and down. He was flushed and just as furious as I was.
Then he grabbed the back of my head, his fingers curling into my hair and smashed his mouth down on mine.
The kiss was bruising and forceful. This wasn’t about romance. This was about domination. I bit down on his bottom lip and could taste his blood.
He pulled away, his lips swollen and bleeding. “I’m happy you’re here. Is that what you want me to say? Is that what you want to hear?” He grabbed my upper arms and pushed me back against the wall, his pelvis thrusting against mine.
“Does that make you happy?” he demanded.
I couldn’t take my eyes away from him. He was gorgeous. And he made me feel completely and totally alive. I craved this manic insanity that I only seemed to experience when I was with him.
Why couldn’t I be content with nice and normal? Why did I crawl over broken glass for this madness?
Why did I allow Cole to degrade me and humiliate me over and over again? Why did I scream at him and make a scene just so I could get this reaction from him?
What the hell was wrong with me?
What the hell was wrong with us?
I was so turned on I could barely stand. I wanted him to take me then and there. I didn’t give a crap about the people openly gawking at us. I thrived on it.
I wanted the hard press of his body against mine. I wanted the chaos.
“Yes! It makes me happy,” I bit out, giving him that tiny victory.
“Good,” he said, leaning in and kissing me tenderly on the nose. His thumbs caressed the side of my face. A remarkably gentle act from such a volatile man.
“Stand in front. I want to see you when I sing,” Cole murmured, leaning in to kiss me on the mouth. And this one wasn’t hateful or angry. It was soft and almost loving. And it shook me to my core.
Then he was gone and I stood there, my back against the wall, trying to catch my breath, not sure what the hell had just happened.
Maysie stood off to the side, her arms crossed, shaking her head. I straightened my spine and walked back to the bar, ordering myself a Lemon Drop and tossed it back. Then I ordered another. And another.
If I were going to make it through the night I’d need help. And my good friend, vodka, would do the trick.
“You always put on a good show, I’ll give you that,” Gracie said dryly, sitting beside me at the bar, watching the people around us. It was hard to ignore the increasing number of girls who were coming into the venue. All decked out in their best metal slut gear. Most of them hoping a flash of skin would get them a night with one of the guys on stage.
I watched as a group of girls tried to make conversation with Garrett and Jordan. Both were polite but obviously uninterested. Maysie was in a corner talking to some people I recognized as the roadie crew. She didn’t seem remotely bothered by the women chatting up her fiancé. And I knew Riley wouldn’t care if she were here either.
Because they didn’t have anything to worry about. Jordan and Garrett were loyal to the women they loved.
The girls finally got the hint and turned their attentions from Garrett and Jordan to Mitch and Cole. When Mitch was too absorbed in tuning his bass to give them what they were looking for, their entire focus honed in on the man I had come to see.
The man who would never truly been mine.
And he smiled and flirted and laughed when they rubbed his arm. He gave them exactly what they wanted. He teased and seduced with only a look and a grin. The girls ate it up. And he loved it. I could see it from here.
My chest started to ache and an unfamiliar thickness squeezed my throat.
“Come on Viv, they’re about to start,” Gracie said, tugging on my arm. I was being uncharacteristically maudlin. I felt like hanging in the back and sulking. But instead I tossed my hair around my shoulders and straightened my shirt to hang low over my breasts. I ran my finger around the edge of my lips, getting rid of any smudges.
Then we pushed and shoved our way to the front where I knew Cole could see me.
Their music started low and languid. Cole’s deep, throaty growl into the mic echoed around the room. The crowd went instantly quiet, the light of a hundred cellphones lighting up.
I knew they were going to be amazing as always, though I couldn’t help but pick up on a very significant difference. It wasn’t anything anyone in the crowd would notice. It was only something close to those on stage would be aware of.
Cole stood out front, his hands clasped around the mic, his eyes closed. Garrett and Mitch stood behind him, their faces turned down to their instruments. Jordan sat at his drums, his mouth set in a firm line as he beat in time to the strains of the music.
They looked like a rock band.
But they each looked miserable. They were musicians that fed off each other. They were always looking and communicating with one another before, during and after every show.
Tonight it was like watching four separate individuals up there rather than one cohesive unit.
There was a major rift going on. And for the first time I truly worried for the fate of my favorite band. Because this didn’t seem like something they’d easily fix.
But then Cole opened his mouth and I stopped worrying about the boys’ drama and allowed myself to get lost in the show.
“I’m here to own you, bitches!” Cole purred, his voice a dark promise. He growled again, Jordan picking up the beat on his drums. Garrett slid his fingers along the strings, making them scream.
“And you’re going to let me. . .because you fucking want it! You’ll fucking love it!” The girls started going crazy and I was getting jostled from behind as a wave of arms and hair and perfume pressed forward, trying to get closer to the man who had us enthralled.
“Can I have you?” he screamed into the crowd and in one voice we all screamed back.
“YES!”
Then the music erupted and I forgot how much the man standing above me infuriated and confused me. I simply became like everyone else. I worshipped him. I desired him.
I wanted him to own me.
Cole curled his hands around the microphone and leaned out toward the writhing mass. Garrett’s head was down, his blonde hair covering his face. His arms taut as he played like he had just made a deal with the devil. Mitch’s face was now
tilted toward the ceiling, his eyes closed as if lost. And Jordan was a machine, pounding the drums in an exhausting rhythm.
But we were all waiting for the magic. For Cole to start singing. And when he did I knew, without a doubt, it was something special. I understood why the record label was pushing him forward. Why they were trying to market him above the other guys. Mitch, Garrett, and Jordan were amazing. They were talented and without them, the band wouldn’t exist.
But Cole was something else entirely. He was sex. He was destruction. He was raw and desperate.
My god, he was fantastic!
Festering and bleeding I’m dying in vain
Spoiled and lost, my soul black and stained
You despise, you destroy, you maim, you control,
I hate you for the life you claimed and you stole.
Filth and defile
Loathe and revile
You dig inside and
Kiss my rotten smile.
I murder your memory,
slash it away
I rip your face from my mind,
Whatever it takes.
The blurred lines of the past,
Eat away at the truth,
Chase me, claim me,
Tighten the noose.
Filth and defile,
Hate without guile,
You pull out my insides,
And break my broken smile.
I want your death,
I want your pain,
I want to be bound
I want your chains.
Filth and defile,
I drown in denial,
You rip me apart
You kill me with a smile.
Kill me with a smile. . .
Cole ended on a long, tortured wail that made my insides shiver. This was one of Garrett’s more morbid songs. Thank god he was with Riley now. His new stuff was a lot less scary.
Being at a Generation Rejects show was an experience unlike any other. And despite the tension that seemed to echo from the stage, it was electric. It was frantic. It could be consuming.
And I wanted to enjoy it. And I would have if not for the sea of screaming, and sometimes shirtless women just waiting to become the object of my annoyance and desire’s new plaything.
I stared up at the man making love to the crowd from the stage and wished I could stop craving him. Stop wanting him with every fiber of my being. But it was like asking me to stop watching The Real Housewives of Atlanta. There were some things out of my control.
Then Cole looked down at me, his eyes meeting mine and he winked. His smile lighting up his face in self-satisfied glory. When he looked at me like that, it was as though he were seeing only me. And that I was the girl he wanted out of anyone he could be with.
I was enough.
I hated him for these glimmers of tenderness that made keeping emotional distance downright impossible. It was hard to hate the man when you loved the heart.
Shit, what was I thinking?
I winked back; shaking my hips a bit in the way I knew drove Cole wild and he widened his eyes and pointed at me, singling me out.
It felt good. It made me feel special.
The girl beside me started to squeal loudly in my ear. As if Cole’s sex-drenched smile, as if his attention, were for her.
Sad, delusional girl.
My face started to redden and my fingers turned into claws. The rage-fueled she-beast was waking from her slumber. The possessive, territorial dragon was ready to take this chick out.
I leaned back and elbowed the twit sharply in the gut, digging my bone in with enough strength to make her gasp. Then I body checked her out of my way, using my ample ass as leverage.
She fell on her butt with a loud screech. I looked down at her with a smile, just as self-satisfied as Cole’s had ever been. I wiggled my fingers in her direction and she glared at me, though with no retaliation.
Maysie looped her arm around my waist and pulled me farther to the side and away from the throng of people.
“I’m not wearing the proper clothing for a bar brawl. So watch it,” she warned. I shrugged, turning my attention back to the boys on stage.
The rest of the show passed without further incident. As soon as The Rejects were finished, the house music came on while they quickly broke down their equipment. I drank a few more beers, enjoying the nice alcoholic haze that had descended.
Cole was at my side soon enough.
“You ready to get out of here?” he whispered in my ear, brushing my hair off my neck and putting his lips over my steady pulse.
“You don’t want to stay and watch Primal Terror?” I asked, swaying slightly from the booze and from Cole’s touch. I wanted to ask him about the odd tension I sensed between him and his bandmates. I wanted to know why even now as he pawed at me desperately, there seemed to be sadness just below the surface.
But I was mildly drunk and incredibly horny.
I looked over Cole’s shoulder and smirked at the disappointed groupies hanging around hoping to swoop in and steal him away.
Not tonight, ladies.
This time, he was all mine.
I forgot about my questions and concerns. I forgot about all the reasons I shouldn’t be doing this at all. I caved to the hedonistic rush that only Cole could provide.
He ran his tongue along the base of my throat, tasting me. I was still high from his performance and my body buzzed in anticipation.
This is, after all, what I came down here for, right?
“I want you, now,” he breathed hard and heavy.
“Then let’s go,” I murmured, consequences and lingering emotions be damned.
“I can’t open my eyes! Oh my god! What did you put on my face?” Vivian screamed, wiping at her skin.
Shit. This was not going how I planned.
Okay, so when I found out Vivian was coming down to Raleigh, I got a little excited. Believe it or not, the most action I had experienced since we were last together in Texas was with my hand.
And my palm desperately needed a break.
I had all sorts of debauchery planned. My sex-drive was going thermal nuclear. So maybe I took it a step too far. Maybe I got a little too creative.
“Why can’t I open my eyes, Cole?” Vivian asked, panicking.
I started trying to scoop heavy, warm, slowly solidifying liquid off her face but the sticky stuff wouldn’t budge.
“What is this stuff?” Vivian demanded, swatting my hands away.
I was still in my boxers and Vivian was only in a hot pair of black lace panties. My erection, which had been large and in charge only moments before, was losing its steam.
And things had been going so well too.
We’d barely gotten out of the bar without mauling each other. Vivian practically deep throated my tongue on the cab ride back to the hotel. The elevator ride up to my room had been just this side of indecent. The elderly couple sharing the lift had gotten more than an eyeful of her fantastic backside.
It was awesome!
When we got to the room we had slowed it down a notch and taken our time, which was unusual for us.
We didn’t take our time. We didn’t linger. We were all about going full throttle to the finish line.
Not tonight.
Tonight I wanted it to be special. I wanted to share things with her. I wanted to indulge in some fantasies, goddamn it!
Unfortunately for me, I had learned one very important lesson...Google was not my friend.
“It’s honey,” I admitted, watching her flail about, thick stringy globs rolling down her face and smearing the pillow.
“Honey? Are you kidding me?” Vivian yelled. And I didn’t blame her. The whole thing was seriously stupid.
But it had seemed like such a great idea at the time.
“It’s supposed to be an aphrodisiac,” I muttered, trying to help her again. I grabbed the end of the blanket and started wiping her face. Her eyelids appeared to be fused together.
“If
you eat it dumbass! Not wear it! What the hell were you thinking? You put this shit on. My. Face!” Vivian rolled off the bed and landed with a thud on the ground. She got unsteadily to her feet and started waving her hands in front of her, shuffling about hesitantly.
“Watch out for the. . .” I began just as she rammed her knees into the bedside table.
Vivian snarled at me.
“Do you want any help?” I asked, making sure to stay out of kicking range.
“No! You’ve done enough for one night!” she huffed, walking into a coat rack and knocking it to the floor.
“Are you sure?” I called out, knowing I should probably help her anyway. But she looked like some sort of sludge monster. And her snarling and growling was freaking me out. I figured if I had any sort of attachment to my appendages, I should stay the hell out of her way.
My poor dick had deflated anti-climatically. I nudged it through my boxers, where it flopped pathetically.
So much for my night of pussy-filled fun. It seemed the gods were against me. I had become the king of masturbation during the last few weeks, forgoing any and all female attention that wasn’t Vivian-scary-honey-monster-Baily.
And when I finally had the only woman my poor, neglected penis seemed to want in my arms, I fucked it up by literally blinding her with condiments.
I licked the stickiness from my fingers and wondered what the likelihood would be for me getting some action if I went into the bathroom with her.
“You fucking asshole!” Vivian hollered from behind the closed door.
Hmm, I’m thinking slim to none.
I pulled the ruined sheets off the bed and called housekeeping to have them bring up some more.
I tugged on my jeans and sat down on the couch, putting my feet up on the small coffee table. Housekeeping showed a few minutes later and remade the bed. I gave the young, Hispanic girl my sexiest grin and she was too flustered to take note of the strange, sticky substance covering the sheets.
I could hear the shower going and I started to get impatient. After housekeeping had left, I pulled on the elastic waistband of my boxers and looked down at my dismally limp cock.
Seductive Chaos Page 11
